


Stardust

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Complete, M/M, and zayn is his boy, harry is more than a shop boy, hashtag lady gaga artpop buy it on itunes!!, idk where i'm going with this i really suck at tags, liam is an adorable fruity captain who acts like a tough guy but is really a cute little gay boy, louis is a boy version of yvaine, louis is a star (like a literal star), niall is a jerk and so is nick, probably really fluff, this whole thing is based off the movie stardust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:26:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Harry is hopelessly in love with the boy who doesn’t want him, and then completely, totally by chance, he comes across the beautiful fallen star called Louis.</p><p>An AU based off the film Stardust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> For Jack and Simon :)

There’s a sharp but small, insistent tap at Niall Horan’s window. Now normally, Niall couldn’t be bothered with such things, but tonight was the night that Nick was going to come by.  
Elated, Niall tore through his room, heartbeat in his chest, excited for the moment that Nick would hold up flowers and confess his undying love and –  
Alas. When Niall opens the window he sees only the poor shop boy named Harry Styles.  
“Hullo, Niall!” Harry shouts, holding a half-wilting bouquet of lilac flowers. “I just thought I’d stop by and –“  
“Oh, Harry,” Niall groans, having half a mind to shut the window right then and there. But of course, he’s much too polite for that, so he just groans.  
“Harry, with all due respect, I was very well expecting someone else. You can’t keep bothering me.”  
Harry just smiles like the fool he is, extending the flowers. “I just thought I’d come and give you these flowers –“  
Harry is interrupted rudely when the bouquet is knocked out of his hands by a flash of glittery metal. Niall finds himself stifling a giggle when Harry turns, dumbfounded, to Nick, who has his sword drawn and raised in offensive stance.  
“Excuse me,” Nick’s slow, smoky voice drawls, punctuating each syllable. “But what the fuck are you doing here?”  
Harry stutters, now staring at the mess of flower petals on the ground. “Erm, I was just visitng Niall.”  
Nick pulls his sword away, slipping it into its case and turning his nose up at Harry. “If I find out that you have been bothering Niall again, shop boy, you’ll lose a lot more than just your flowers.”  
***  
Harry sat at the dinner table. His father, Des, was humming happily while preparing a pot of tea.  
“Are you popping into the shop today?” Des asked while pouring the tea into two separate cups, adding a bit more cream and sugar into Harry’s.  
“Yes,” Harry answers, but almost gloomily. Des catches it immediately.  
“What’s wrong, Harry?” he asks while handing Harry his cup of tea. Harry takes it in between his fingers gladly, the warmth from the cup leaching the stiffness out of his fingers. Des and Harry have always been close; had to have been, since Harry’s mother was never present. Harry briefly debates whether or not to lie, but then ultimately decides that Des would catch it right off the bat.  
“Everyone calls me shop boy. Like that’s all who I am. It’s just, oh, there goes Harry Styles, the silly little boring shop boy.”  
Des frowns. “You know that you’re anything but boring, Harry,” he says sternly, and Harry sighs.  
“Yeah, I know. It’s just annoying that that’s all they see me as. Like this one boy, Niall, who I’ve had a crush on for years. He and well, mostly his boyfriend Nick, they call me shop boy sometimes.”  
Des smiles. “Well then, you know what you have to do? You have to keep your chin up! You have to go prove to this Niall boy that you are more than just a shop boy!”  
Harry’s eyes light up, his brain immediately churning and wailing and coming up with the perfect plan.  
“Oh, I have the most wonderful idea! Oh, thank you, Father!” Harry exclaims, giving Des a crisp hug and rushing out the door.  
“Where are you going?” Des calls out worriedly behind him.  
“To pick up some supplies!” Harry replies back, already halfway across the street.  
***  
This time, when there is that same sharp tap on Niall’s window, he immediately groans, feeling no sort of excitement. Nick hadn’t planned on stopping by tonight, so it must be Harry.  
Harry waits under Niall’s window, holding another bouquet of lilac flowers and a basket full of cheeses, wine, and a blanket. He can’t stop grinning, too excited for the moment Niall opens his window and spots his gifts.  
However, the reaction Harry expected from Niall is nowhere near what really happened.  
Niall grunted exaggeratedly and sighed, crossing his arms and glaring at Harry. “Harry, I thought I told you to leave me alone –“  
“Wait!” Harry says, effectively cutting off Niall before he can get another word in. “Just come with me? Please? And then I won’t bother you ever again.”  
Niall sighs, rolls his eyes, and rudely shuts the window.  
Harry’s smile falters; he feels his heart sink about a few hundred meters. Even his flowers droop, reflecting the sadness that emits from Harry.  
There’s a rustle at the front door, and he hears Niall’s loud voice. “This better be quick, Curly,” he says, latching onto Harry’s arm. Harry smiles, wraps his hand over Niall’s and picks up the basket.  
“Oh, don’t worry Niall. It won’t take too long.”  
***  
Harry takes them to a diminutive, secluded place in the middle of the thicket of trees that stands between the small town and the Wall. He sets down the basket and pulls out a lighter, quickly lighting all of the candles he set up in advance.  
Niall giggles. “You really went all out on this Harry, didn’t you?”  
“Of course I did,” Harry replies. “You deserve it, Niall.”  
Niall blushes. “Well, I’m not sure I deserve this. But I know for a fact that I deserve the champagne that’s in that basket of yours.”  
Harry lights the last candle and laughs. “Then why don’t we open it?”  
The next hour is full of drunken giggles and awful puns and open flirting, and Harry is getting tipsier by the minute. So tipsy, in fact, that he brings up Nick, which was probably a really not-smart thing to do.  
“Why are you dating that twat Nick anyway? I’d love you better,” he slurs, mind made goo by the champagne. Niall just laughs in response.  
“Nick? Well. Have to be with a man with money, don’t I? Besides, he’s not that bad. Did you know that he’s going all the way to Upswitch? Just to buy me a ring?”  
Harry sniggers. “Upswitch? Wait, ring, what – why is he getting you a ring?”  
Niall sips some champagne and leans in close, his voice raspy. “Well, there’s talk of him asking me to marry him. And, Upswitch. I can’t really deny him if he’s going all the way to Upswitch, can I?”  
“All the way to Upswitch?” Harry repeats faintly. “Niall, for your hand in marriage, I’d cross oceans! Or continents!”  
Niall is leaning in closer, still a bit lightheaded from the alcohol.  
“I’d go to Egypt and bring you back your weight in gold.”  
He’s leaning in even closer, now, probably dangerously close, lips just ghosting over Harry’s. Harry glances down at their almost-connected mouths.  
“I’d go to Antarctica and bring you back a polar bear’s head.”  
Niall pulls back, his eyebrow pinched in disgust. “A polar bear’s head?”  
Harry’s shoulders slump, his mouth frowning. Niall sighs lightly and touches his nose. “You’re funny, Harry.” Harry pulls away, avoiding Niall’s touch in the way a five-year-old would avoid being cleaned. “It’s just,” Niall says, “people like you, and people like me, well they don’t really, uh. You know?”  
Harry nods sadly, and the pair just sit in awkward silence for one or two moments when something bright and quick flashes across the sky.  
“A falling star!” Harry points out hastily, temporarily forgetting that he’s supposed to be upset.  
Niall’s head raises significantly, his neck craning to try and catch a glimpse of the Universe’s fallen beauty. Harry turns to Niall, taking his hand in his own.  
“Niall, for your hand in marriage, I’d go and bring you that fallen star,” he whispers quietly, eyes softly puncturing Niall’s steely blue gaze.  
Niall considers Harry’s words for a moment, looking up and back at the stripe of faint light the star left behind in its descent. “Okay. Allright.”  
Harry’s heart lifts, the green in his eyes igniting and doing a giant celebratory victory dance. “Really? You’ll really marry me if I get you that fallen star?”  
Niall nods, raising his champagne glass to seal the deal. Just as Harry is about to clink his glass against his, he pulls back slightly.  
“You have one week, or I’m marrying Nick.”  
Harry nods, and the glasses ring against each other.  
***  
Harry approaches the Wall quietly, not wanting to wake the old man up that guards it. His plan is to just sneak past the man, collect the star (which he expects is probably a lump of ice and metal, nothing special), and return it to Niall by morning. But of course, his entire plan is thwarted when the old man greets him.  
“Oh, hello! Little Des Styles. Haven’t seen you in a while.”  
Harry shakes his head, confused. “I’m not Des. I’m – I’m Harry.”  
The old man’s eyes widen, and he clutches his walking stick. “Oh, oh, I’m sorry, young Harold. You and your father look so much alike, y’know.”  
Harry nods, wanting the old man to nod off already so he can just go get his star.  
“Don’t expect to slip past me, just as your father did,” the old man warns, and Harry’s heart deflates. “I’ve toughened up on my moves.”  
Of course, the only damn guard that protects the only damn gap in the wall has to be a Ninja in training. Harry sighs. Why does he have to live in a fucking mythical fairy-town where the Wall separates him from the ‘normal’ and the ‘fantasy’?  
“Oh, right, of course,” Harry says, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ll just go home, then.”  
The old man smiles, patting Harry on the back. “That’s right. You go home, Harold. Nice seeing you. Tell the old man to pop by for a visit sometime? Haven’t seen him in ages –“  
Harry turns around and books it, running full-speed towards the gap in the wall. He’s going a mile a second; nothing can stop him now –  
He’s halted by a sharp wham to the shoulder, and he falls over, prickles of pain overwhelming his entire left torso. The old man stands above him, holding his walking stick up.  
“Nice try, Harry Styles! Better luck next time, eh?”  
***  
When Harry gets back to his home, his shoulder aching – the old man packed quite a punch – the first thing he does is find his Dad sitting at the table reading a book and screech, “When the fuck did you visit the Wall?”  
Des jumps back, startled by the sudden noise, then his eyebrows wilt. “Now, Harry. Language.”  
“Oh. Sorry. But really, when did you visit the Wall?”  
Des sighs and sets down his book. “It was a long, long time ago –“  
“Obviously,” Harry interrupts. “The old man thought I was you.”  
Des chuckles. “Really, it’s been that long? Ah, I miss that old man –“  
“Yes yes very touching. Back to the story?”  
Des clears his throat. “Well, it was a long, long time ago, and I was just curious to see what was over the Wall. It was absolutely wonderful there, all the magic and the mysteriousness. I never expected to meet her, though –“  
“Her who?” Harry demands.  
“Your mother,” Des replies quietly.  
Harry goes silent at that, considering this in his mind. “You never told me she was even alive, God –“  
Des interrupts. “Yes, and I apologize for that. I was going to wait until you turned eighteen, but now, I guess you have to know, huh?”  
Harry nods, still speechless at the thought that his mother is alive.  
“She left you a note, all those years ago when you were dropped off. Would you like to read it?”  
Harry nods frantically. “Duh.”  
***  
My dearest Harry,  
Oh darling, I wish with all my heart that I could keep you. And I would, had my mistress allowed it. I can’t wait to see you, see how big you’ve grown, see how handsome you’ve become. Attached to this note is a Babylon Candle, the fastest way to travel. To use it, light it, and think of me and only me. I can’t wait to see you, baby.  
Love you,  
your mother  
Harry turns the fat, black candle over and over in his fingers again, faint images of what he imagines his mother would look like flashing behind his eyes. He wants to see her, badly, but he also fears the worst. What if she’s dead? Or even worse, what if she doesn’t want him?  
Des appears at the doorway, eyes filled with sympathy (or is it pity?). “Do you want to light it, Harry?”  
Harry turns it in his hand one more time, takes a deep breath, and nods. “Yes, yeah. I want to light it. I want to see her.”  
Des reveals the match he had been holding and walks up to Harry, sitting next to him on the bed. “Okay, I’ll light it for you on one condition. You have to return to me someday. Is that okay?”  
Harry laughs. “Yes. I’ll come back, Dad.”  
Des smiles softly and strikes the match against the hard stone floor, flame igniting and engulfing the tip of the match. He leans it towards the wick of the candle, and the flame catches, burning down the wick and –  
Suddenly, Harry is in the air, or rather. He feels like he’s in the air. He also feels like he’s being squeezed, like he’s squishing through some sort of time-warp or shit like that, and he’s thinking my mother my mother my mother but then very quickly, the thought of Niall and the star flits into his mind. Just like that, just as quick as he left his room, he’s done flying, and now he’s slamming into something bright and sturdy and very much solid.  
When he gains awareness of his surroundings and opens his previously-clenched eyelids, he realizes that he has slammed into a doe-eyed, extremely surprised boy.  
“Oh, oh, sorry,” he apologizes awkwardly, climbing off of the small boy and standing up. “Didn’t see you there.”  
“Oh yeah, didn’t see me there,” the boy replies grumpily, standing up and brushing himself off. “Unbelievable, un-fucking-believable, of course some random boy would just come and slam into me –“  
“Erm, who are you?” Harry asks briefly, rubbing the spot his shoulder where it collided with the boy’s. “Do you know where my mother is?”  
The boy wrinkles his brow. “No, I don’t know where your mother is. Christ, does it look like I’m a bloody reference book? And I’m Louis, and I don’t know who the fuck you are, but –“  
“I’m Harry,” Harry responds immediately, holding out his hand. The boy, Louis, eyes it apprehensively before Harry prompts him to shake it. He shakes it carefully, then continues brushing himself and adjusting his clothes. He’s wearing a cerulean-blue button-up shirt and tight, white, white trousers.  
“What are you looking at, Curly?” he says rudely, eyeing Harry with a hint of a glare.  
Harry’s brain starts working, starts putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and notices that the two of them are in a giant crater. “You’re – are you- are you the fallen star?”  
Louis shoots him a nasty glare and gives him a ‘duh’ face. “Obviously,” he deadpans.  
Harry wants to laugh, and he does, which gets him another glare from Louis. “Oh, oh this is great! Oh, just great. Now I can take you back to Niall and –“  
“Excuse me?” Louis says, waving a small hand in front of his face. He is small. Very small, maybe three or four inches shorter than Harry. His brown hair is stuck up in a neat quiff, his eyes are a shocking hue of blue (probably due to the fact that he’s a fucking star), and his mouth is etched into a permanent scowl. “I will not be go-ing anywhere, unless it involves me going back into the sky, boy.”  
Harry just shrugs, pulls the chain that his mother left him out of his pocket, and quickly connects it to Louis’ wrist.  
“Well, now you don’t have a choice, star,” Harry says smugly, attaching the other end of the chain to his pants loop.  
Louis scoffs and tries in vain to yank the chain off. “First of all, fuck off, boy, you can’t make me go anywhere, and second, my name is Louis, not star, smartass.”  
Harry groans. He finds himself wishing more than anything that the star was indeed just a lump of metal and not a smart-mouthed, quick-witted sass.  
“Well, Louis, you can either come with me now or later, willingly or by force. Which’ll it be?”  
Louis scowls, plopping down onto the ground and fixing strands of loose hair. “Neither. I’m going to be left alone now, and I’d find it quite helpful if you left, Curly, so could you just buzz off and do your business elsewhere?”  
Harry clumps his fists on his hips, getting more impatient by the second. “Listen. If you come with me and you don’t put up a fight, I’ll let you use the rest of my Babylon candle.”  
Louis immediately shoots up at that, eyes firing into over-celestial-blue. “You’ve got a Babylon candle?”  
Harry nods slowly. “Yes. And I’ll let you use the rest of it, if you’re cooperative.”  
Louis’ eyebrows pinch suspiciously, his blue eyes narrowing and dulling simultaneously. “You promise?”  
Harry lays a hand over his heart, straightening his posture in order to look more serious. “I swear it.”  
Louis sighs and stands up, stretching and scratching his arm. “Allright then. Onward bound to wherever the fuck we’re going.”  
And that is how Harry Styles meets the loud-mouthed Louis, and that is how Harry Styles finds out that Louis is not a pleasant traveler.  
***  
“Jesus Christ, boy, do you think you could slow down a bit up there?” Louis whines, and this is his third diverse complaint in the last two minutes. Harry has half a mind to find earplugs and just ignore the boy - er, star - entirely.  
“Fine, fine! Can you stop complaining for a minute?”  
There is sweet, sweet silence. For a minute. And then Louis starts chatting right up again, making Harry feel the need to pull out his own hair.  
“Do you think we could take a five minute rest stop? It may be a surprise to your tiny little human brain but I’ve never actually walked before.”  
Harry sighs and slumps to the ground in defeat. “Allright! Just five minutes, okay? Then we’re back to walking.”  
Louis plops down on the ground happily, but then his face immediately turns to a scowl. There’s no reason for the scowl, it’s just the natural way his lips sit.  
“You humans are so sprightly, eh?” he chuckles to himself.  
“Why don’t you glow or some shit like that, huh? Aren’t you a star?” Harry snaps back grumpily. Louis folds his arms over his chest and scowls even more than usual.  
“Excuse you. It may have escaped your notice, but I fell out of the fucking sky. And stars only glow when they’re happy; does it look like I’m fucking happy right now?”  
Harry stays silent at that, just letting Louis sit in peace for five minutes. When that passes, he stands right back up again, and Louis starts complaining just where he left off.  
“Where are we going anyway?” he calls from about 10 meters behind Harry (he was very, very slow.)  
“To Niall! So I can give you to him and he’ll marry me!” Harry calls back, and Louis frowns.  
“I’m not going to just be given to Neil or Nail or whatever his name is. I am a living thing.”  
“Hmm, really?” Harry grumbles. “Didn’t notice.”  
***  
Not soon after, Harry’s eyes begin to droop. The pathway in front of him seems blurry, and his limbs are slowly succumbing to the exhaustion he feels.  
“Allright, you know what? We’re taking a nap,” he shouts, slinking down to the ground and resting his head on his shoulder-bag. Louis grumbles and sits down, then begins messing with the chain and trying in vain to get it loose.  
When Louis yanks the chain a little too hard and moves Harry’s wrist, Harry’s eyes snap open and he glares at Louis grumpily. “Don’t you ever sleep?”  
Louis shoots him an equally nasty glare. “It may have escaped your notice, Curly, but stars have more important things to do at night. They’re coming out. Shining. Doing other star-like things.”  
“Well,” Harry mumbles sleepily. “There will be no shining. Or other star-like things. Oh, and sleeping during the day? No. That’s not going to happen.”  
Louis’s eyebrows wither. “You’re not the boss of me.”  
Harry sighs and waves his wrist teasingly. “Uh, actually, I kind of am.”  
Louis pouts and turns away from Harry, still messing with the chain and even trying to bite it off. It gets to the point where Louis is becoming the puppet-master of Harry’s arm, and Harry sits up, annoyed.  
“Allright. Fine. Let’s just go and keep walking and get this over with, yeah?”  
And so the two start walking again, Louis mumbling more complaints (but Harry is thanking the Heavens that his complaints are much more sparse this time). Eventually, after about an hour of walking, Harry scratches his head and realizes he doesn’t recognize any of his surroundings. He turns backwards to Louis and heaves a sigh.  
“Er, I’m sorry, but – I think we’re lost.”  
“Oh grand, just absolutely grand,” Louis mutters.  
Harry extends his neck towards the sky and searches in vain for the Evening Star. “It’s so odd, usually the Evening Star is out by this time –“  
Harry is cut off by Louis’ sarcastic laugh, high and tense. “Oh hah, hah, you’re very funny. Award for best comedian goes to you.”  
Harry stares at Louis, then back up at the sky. “You’re – you’re the Evening Star?”  
Louis nods in a ‘duh’-like manner.  
Harry laughs softly and threads a hand through his hair. “Alright. I’m going to go er – exploring for a little bit and see if I can figure out where we are. So you just… stay here.”  
Louis sighs and leans against a tree trunk, his breathing slow. “Can’t promise anything, boy.”  
Harry takes the chain from his pocket and loops it around the tree trunk, his lip curled in triumph. “There. Now you can’t go anywhere.”  
Louis pouts and folds his arms across his chest, while Harry just smirks and goes off in search of the right path.  
***  
Louis leans further into the rough bark of the tree trunk, loving the way it settles into his skin and creates a distraction. He finds himself staring up at the sky, achingly, already missing his home.  
“Jesus,” he mutters, just because his life is very shitty right now and he deserves to mutter. He thinks about Harry, the stupid, unfriendly boy that holds him hostage. He thinks about this ‘Niall’ person. He must really be a wanker; who would want a fallen star?  
A gust of wind breathes through the night and Louis shivers, not used to earthly climate. He’s wishing for a bit more protection than just a button-up and trousers when the Unicorn appears out of nowhere.  
“Oh, hello,” Louis says, petting the Unicorn’s soft fur. It leans forward, nuzzling it’s giant face against Louis’, and then leans into the chain, it’s horn effectively cutting the golden links.  
“Oh, shit!” Louis exclaims, rubbing his wrist and relishing in the fact that he’s finally free from that awful chain. “I didn’t know Unicorn horns could do that.”  
The unicorn neighs softly, bending down and prompting Louis to climb atop him. Louis works quickly – standing up and straddling the creature’s backside, loosening his arms a bit to steady himself.  
“Well, onward, horsey. Wherever you want to take me.”  
***  
Harry is lost. Very, very lost. He can’t seem to even find his way back, let alone find the right path to travel on. He stops in his tracks, shouting an explicit cuss word and throwing his bag on the ground in exasperation. Why did the Evening Star have to fall? Out of all the hundreds of stars, Harry has to be stuck with an annoying, whiny, bitchy, Evening Star?  
He’s about to call it quits right then and there; simply shut his eyes and wait until morning to figure this out, when he hears the horse neighing distantly and the shouts of commands, and the poundings of a set of wheels on a dusty road.  
His ears and eyes perk up immediately, observing carefully for new sounds and sights. He turns his head to the left, where he hears a distinct “hi-ya!” and he runs quickly to the sound.  
Alas, a road! A dusty, scrawny, dim road, but a road nonetheless. He waits at the edge of the road, waits for the horse and carriage that he heard earlier to come past. He sees it approaching, and braces himself, ready to launch himself at the carriage and demand for directions –  
He’s missed his chance. The carriage goes speeding past, led by a pair of bulky black horses, and the man on top is relentlessly screaming commands. “No, wait!” he calls, his feet now running in an attempt to catch up with the carriage. “Stop!” he cries loudly, trying to catch the attention of the man, but he never turns his head.  
Defeated, Harry slows down and drops his neck, and a faint drizzle is now starting to plunge from the sky. He turns gloomily to walk back to the forest in search of another person, when the carriage stops suddenly and the horses tumble down.  
“FUCK!” he hears the man scream, a wheel popping off of the carriage. Harry races towards the carriage about 50 meters away, shooting a silent thanks to the Heavens.  
“Need any help sir?” he says, out of breath, when he’s finally caught up to the carriage. The man is crouched down, inspecting the damage and helping his horses stand back on their feet again.  
“Who are you?” the man says gruffly, thick droplets running down the bones of his nose. The drizzle has now turned into a bona fide rainstorm, and the water is clouding Harry’s eyes.  
“I’m Harry Styles, sir! Would you like some help with your carriage?” Harry shouts, his voice muffled by the clap of thunder that rumbles through the sky.  
“Oh, allright!” the man says stubbornly, wiping his face from the rain, and the two start working together to attach the wheel back to the carriage. It’s long, exhausting work, filled with many pinched fingers and dropped tools and cusses, but they finally manage to get the wheel back in place.  
“You ride up front with me, boy!” the man says, gesturing to the front of his carriage. “We’re going to find a place to take a rest-stop!”  
“Oh, thank you, sir!” Harry says gratefully, climbing on top of the carriage and sitting next to the man. They ride in silence, occasionally interrupted by the boom of thunder or flash of lightning, in search of a place where they can stop and dry off.  
“Oi! There’s one!” Harry points out, jamming his finger toward a small but cosy-looking inn not too far from the road. The man yanks back his reins, commanding the horses to slow down and eventually halt. They stop right in front of the inn, and an old, awkward man approaches them.  
“Hello, good sir! Is there any place where I could drop off my horses?” the man shouts, and the old man just grunts in reply. He takes hold of the reins of the horses.  
“Go inside,” he says gruffly, gesturing to the inn.  
Both Harry and the man jump down from the carriage, shivering and heading towards the warm light that pours from the open door of the inn. Once they are both safely inside, shuddering from the sudden heat, they shrug off their soaked coats and wait for someone to greet them.  
“My, my!” someone says suddenly from the stairs, and Harry and the man instantly turn their heads to the noise. It’s a woman, blonde, probably mid or late 40’s, clutching a hand to her heart. “When did you two get here? You both look so cold!” she says, quickly rushing down the staircase and fetching two soft-looking blankets. She drapes one over each of them.  
“We’ve just arrived, madam. Is there any chance we could stay for the night?” the man asks, wrapping the blanket over his broad body. The woman ‘tsk’s.  
“Why, of course you can! You’re just in luck, there’s two rooms left! The other one is currently being occupied, poor dear. Came in soaked to the bone, lucky we had room for him.”  
“Great,” the man says, standing up, still swathed in his blanket. “Where shall we pay?”  
“Oh, bother about paying later! You two focus on getting warm. My other guest should be down in a minute; he’s just come from a bath.”  
At that moment, someone else comes bumbling down the stairs, and Harry is genuinely surprised to see that it is a very wet Louis, dressed lazily in a pale blue bathrobe.  
“Louis! What’re you doing here?”  
“I could ask you the same thing, Curly!” Louis scowls, and Harry is almost (emphasis on almost) relieved to see that scowl again. “It’s a good thing I came here, innit? Else I’d be stuck in the rain.”  
Harry frowns disapprovingly, even though he’s secretly glad to see the star again. Who knows what could’ve happened to him if he’d stayed by the tree?  
“Oh, so you two know each other?” the lady says, a bright smile still painted on her face. “Wonderful. Why don’t you get reacquainted with each other while I give this other man a nice, warm bath?”  
The man whom Harry traveled with stands up and sighs, following the woman up the stairs. Harry stares at Louis.  
“You’re glowing, y’know, Louis,” Harry notes, gesturing to the bright aura that surrounds Louis. Louis smiles.  
“Yeah, I know. The lady was nice. Gave me a bath and all, offered to wash me clothes. Haven’t felt better since I landed here.”  
“How did that happen, anyway?” Harry asks curiously. Louis shrugs.  
“I’ve honestly no idea. One moment I’m just biding my time, getting ready to shine like all of the other stars, and then WHAM! Out of nowhere, I’m falling and falling and suddenly I’m crashing to the Earth, and then you show up and just bang into me, and well. Now we’re here.”  
Harry giggles. “Sounds fun.”  
Louis is about to shoot back a snappy reply when they both hear it – the cry of pain followed by an undisturbed, violent silence.  
“What’s going on?” Louis whispers, backing slowly into Harry. Harry just shakes his head and his mouth gapes, dumbfounded. The woman appears at the top of the stairs, a manic smile upon her face. She’s holding a jagged, cruel-looking blade and descending down the stairs at a steady pace.  
“I knew the moment you walked in here that you were a star,” she snarls, words aimed at Louis. She raises her hands and brilliant green flame shoot out of her fingertips. The bright green fire swirls around Louis and Harry and swallows up the room, curling and separating where the lady walks.  
“I’ve not had a star for ages, could really use one,” she says nastily. “It’s best when stars are at their happiest, though. Your heart is sniveling and fearful, hardly a feast –“  
The flames surround Harry and Louis as they back into a wall, Harry standing in front of Louis and protecting him from the blaze. Harry feels around in his pocket for the Babylon candle, searching and searching –  
“-even still, better than no heart at all,” the witch continues, raising her arm and preparing to bury the blade into both Harry and Louis’s hearts.  
Finally Harry finds it, his fingertips curling over its waxy surface. “Louis, quick, hold tight to me and think of home,” Harry whispers. He yanks out the candle, shoving it into the green flames and screeching when the heat licks his skin.  
Home, home! he thinks, and the last thing he sees is the witches wild eyes as she yells and stabs the dagger at the wall –  
…  
Suddenly, him and Louis are flying, twisting and turning and squeezing and squishing, and just like that, it’s done.  
But. This isn’t Harry’s home.  
They are standing in a raincloud, smoky condensation enveloping everything from the waist down. The rain is still pouring, dripping its way down their throats and spines and setting everything in bone-chilling cold.  
“This is entirely your fault, you bloody idiot!” Harry shouts over the flashes of lightning, shooting a look that could kill at Louis’s soaked, bath-robed body. Louis turns to him and argues, water spitting out of his mouth as he does so.  
“My fault! You’re the one who said think of home! What a great plan! You thought of your home and I thought of mine, and now we’re stuck between the two!”  
“Well I couldn’t exactly explain it, what with that crazy witch lady trying to impale us!” Harry shoots back, moisture dripping down his brow. “Would you like more detailed instructions? Perhaps you’d like it in writing! Or a diagram, maybe!”  
Before Louis can argue further, a net drops over both of them and they sink through the semi-solid cloud, bodies entangling in the net and snarling together.  
Now, they’re on a boat, still trapped under the net but now under the eyes of what seem to be several men.  
“We’ve got ‘em, cap’n!” one of them shouts, turning backwards and calling to someone. “Trespassers!”  
Harry and Louis wince, sight blurred now not only from the rain but from the net as well. A strong, surly looking man cuts into their vision, his lips curled into a grimace and his eyes screaming “I’m the Leader!”.  
“Trespassers, Cap’n Payne!” one of the men repeats. “Why d’you fink they’re out ‘ere?”  
“I don’t know,” the Captain says gruffly, turning to address all of the men now. “Maybe for the same godforsaken reason we are!” the men all grunt in agreement, not wanting to oppose the Captain. “Take them to the dungeon, I’ll deal with them later.”  
And with that, Louis and Harry are picked up (still tangled in the net, mind you) and hauled to a scary-looking door with a scary-looking lock.  
***  
Harry and Louis sit back to back; chairs in between them. Their hands are bound, together unfortunately, and the rain falls softly on the windows in front (behind) them.  
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, ever so quietly that Louis has to lean closer to hear it. “It’s – it’ s uh, it’s my fault we’re here in the first place. If I hadn’t made you come we wouldn’t be here.”  
Louis sighs and cranes his neck to try and turn to Harry as much as he can. “No, I ‘spose it’s partly my fault too. If I’d just stayed put. Or not even fallen out of the sky at all.”  
Harry chuckles. “Yeah, damn Louis. Why’d you have to fall out of the sky?”  
Louis giggles. There’s a few beats of unnatural silence. “Harry, why do you love Niall?”  
Harry considers the question for a moment, and then finally shrugs. Louis can feel his shoulders rise against his back. “Because in all my years of watching Earth, watching down on all of the mistakes and joys and pains, I’ve discovered that love is one of the greatest, most painful things. And if there is one thing I know about it, it’s that it’s unconditional, and unexpected. And I’ve seen how he calls you shop boy. You are more than just a shop boy, Harry. There are shop boys, and then there are boys who just happen to work at a shop for the time being, y’know?”  
Harry smiles. “Well, thank you, Louis. You are kind when you want to be.”  
Louis laughs. “I’m sorry I’ve been a pain. Being a human‘s hard, y’know? Being a star is much, much easier. You should consider it.”  
“I’ll consider it when I possess the ability to shine, Lou. And when scary witches don’t try and come to carve out my heart.”  
“You make it sound so awful,” Louis smiles.  
“And besides, you haven’t met Niall yet. You can’t judge him til you meet him. There is, was, after all, thousands upon thousands of things separating you from him.”  
“Hmm,” Louis says teasingly. “Have my heart cut out by a witch. Meet Niall. I can’t possibly decide which sounds more fun.”  
***  
Capt. Liam Payne sits at his desk, scanning his dark eyes over papers and desperately trying to rub away the migraine starting to form in his eyebrows. His boy, Zayn Malik, kneads his shoulders, working out the kinks from a long day.  
“You know you’re going to have to go talk to them sometime,” Zayn says quietly.  
Liam sighs. “I know. And I’m gonna have to be mean about it, aren’t I? Oh. Why can’t these men just be normal men? So I could be the normal me?”  
Zayn cracks a knowing smile. “C’mon, Liam. The normal you creeps even me out.”  
“Heyyyy,” Liam pouts, turning around and grabbing Zayn’s hands. He pulls him down and snags his lips into a sweet kiss, one with soft edges and gentle movements. Zayn’s fingers twirl in the back of Liam’s short hair.  
“Might as well go get it over with. I’ll keep watch.”  
Liam breaks away from the kiss and sighs, standing up and throwing on his coat. “Oh, allright.”  
Liam bursts out the door to the men doing various jobs around the ship, but as soon as they spot him, they freeze.  
“I’m going to go talk to the prisoners, and if any one of you walk in on us, you’ll be walking the plank with them too!”  
He hobbles down the floorboards of the ship and flings himself into the doorway (trying to keep up with that nasty cliché pirate image), slamming it roughly behind him.  
The two prisoners (but not really) sit back to back, hands entangled with the other’s. (Liam personally thinks the two would be a gorgeous couple, but, eh. That’s just him.) “Allright, you two. Start talking.”  
The younger looking boy, the one with curly hair, clears his throat. “I’m er – Harry Styles. And this is my roommate Louis –“  
“Oh, bullshit,” Liam spits, keeping an eye on the door (for he knows that the men are listening in right now). “Tell the truth.”  
Harry coughs quietly while Louis just remains petrified. “I’m, er, I’m telling the truth. We live in London-“  
Liam’s eyes widen. Did he just say what he think he said?  
…  
All of the men at the door lean in closer, eager to hear the words being exchanged between the Captain and the prisoners.  
“Did you just say you were from London?” Zayn hears, and oh. Time for them to clear out.  
“Allright, break it up, break it up. He’s probably gonna throw ‘em out the window, anyway.”  
All of the men rush over to the side of the ship, and watch with delight as a human body is thrust out of the window. They all laugh and cheer, giving each other pats on the backs and such, and Zayn rolls his eyes.  
Liam opens the door and is dragging a screaming Louis. “How dare you throw him out! You monster!” Louis shouts, but Liam does not let go, keeps lugging him across the port and into his own quarters.  
“Going to deal with this one, men! Anybody who disturbs us is going to be thrown out the window themselves!”  
And he throws Louis in the door and slams it behind him.  
Zayn secretly smiles to himself. His boy acts a really good job of being a pirate.  
…  
Harry stands in the middle of Liam’s quarters, clad only in his underwear.  
“I’m terribly sorry about that whole fiasco back there; gotta keep up with that scary ‘pirate’ image or the men won’t respect me!” Liam hums while swooping over to his giant closet and carding through the many clothes. He picks out a nice, black-and-white ensemble that would fit perfectly on Harry’s body.  
“So, I want you two to tell me all about my beautiful London. Is it allright there?” Liam says.  
Harry shrugs while pulling on the outfit. “Yeah, ‘s allright.”  
“Excellent!” Liam squeals. “Now, once you’re done with the outfit, I’ll comb out your hair and you’ll look just like new.”  
Harry’s eyebrow pinches. “Are you sure they won’t recognize me?”  
Liam gives a sort of teasing glare. “Trust me, honey. Your own mother won’t recognize you when I’m done with you.”  
Liam instructs Harry to sit in a chair while he pulls out his many hair supplies; scissors, hair product, the likes. “You can go over there and look for some clothes too, dear. Don’t say you don’t need it,” he chirps to Louis.  
***  
Two long, trifling hours later, Louis is clothed in a soft-looking blue shirt and white trousers, and Harry looks – completely different. He’s wearing a white shirt underneath a sleek suit, boots, and hair styled and slicked back. He looks completely different, yes, and Liam has never been more proud of his work.  
“Allright,” Liam says fondly, repeating himself for the third time. “So the plan is I’m going to stop by this teeny shop and pick up some lightning, Louis will come with me, you will stay here, and then when they get back I’ll tell them you’re my cousin.” Liam beams brightly, and Louis sighs.  
“Yes, you’ve told us this for the umpteenth time. Let’s just go now!”  
Louis and Liam wave goodbye to Harry, and then climb off of the ship (the ship is, oddly, not in water, but in the air!) and go inside the musky little shop run by a Mr. Josh Devine. The shop says, upon entering, “Devine’s Thrift: We Also Sell Lightning”.  
Liam weaved his way inside the dusty shop, avoiding racks of coats and strange hats, and finally approaching Mr. Devine.  
“D’you have any lightning for me, Josh? ‘M afraid I’ve run out.”  
Josh turns around, eyes wild. “Liam! Haven’t seen you in forever, mate! How’ve you been?”  
“I’d be better if I had some lightning.”  
The pair continue chatting (Josh trying to beat around the bush and make small talk; Liam just wanting to get his damn lightning) and it ends with Josh opening a small satchel and a crack of lightning bursting out.  
“What’ll you pay me?” Josh says greedily, and Liam sighs.  
“Ninety shillings. No more.”  
“Ninety-five?”  
“One hundred. I insist I pay one hundred,” Liam says (only just a bit of his true kindness showing through).  
“Oh, allright then.”  
It ends with Josh handing Liam the tan satchel and Liam handing Josh a small pile of shillings. Just as Liam is about to leave and take his nosy crew with him, Josh takes Liam’s arm and brings him over to the corner of the shop.  
“Rumour has it a star has fallen. D’you know how much quid that would be? A star’s heart? We’d be rich! Have you seen it anywhere?”  
Liam turns, giving a sympathetic smile to Louis, who is listening intently with an expression of horror cast on his face. “No, sorry mate. Haven’t seen it.”  
Josh’s eyebrows wilt disappointedly, his insatiable smile turning into a dull frown. “Oh. Okay. Allright then. Ring me up if you do spot it, then?”  
“Will do,” Liam says, clapping Josh on the back.  
Finally, Liam, Louis, Zayn, and his crew leave, and when they get back onto port, a surprise awaits them.  
“Harry! Good to see ya, lad! Everyone, this is my cousin, Harry! He’ll be staying with us for a bit.”  
The crew doesn’t even bat an eye, shouting in Harry’s face and giving him congratulatory phrases (i.e. “WELCOME TO THE SHIP MATE!” spat loudly in Harry’s face). Liam has generously given Harry a sword to make his image more real, though Harry doesn’t even know how to hold a sword let alone fight with one. When Zayn advances him, he gives Harry a suspicious eye, but Liam tells him not to worry.  
“He’s my boy, that one. You can trust him.”  
*****  
There’s never a dull moment upon Captain Liam Payne’s ship; at least, not for Harry and Louis, anyway. Liam, wanting to teach Harry the ‘ropes of life’, gives him a crash course in various things such as handling a sword, blocking, how to assemble a gun, the likes. He wanted to take a softer approach with Louis, though (him being a star of course), so he taught him things in the ranges of piano, table manners and etiquette, and ballroom dancing.  
One night, while the stars were singing, the crew was happy, and Louis was practicing his ballroom dancing with Zayn, Liam turned to Harry with a twinkle in his eye.  
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”  
“Whom are you referring too?”  
Liam laughs. “Well, obviously, Zayn is gorgeous. But look at Louis. Doesn’t he just look beautiful tonight?”  
Harry watched Louis, watched him laugh with Zayn (who was wicked terrible at ballroom dancing) and watched him glow. Literally, glow. Louis was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time.  
“Yes. Yes, he’s very beautiful.”  
“You can’t let somebody like that go, can you? You’ve got to hold on tight! Tell them you love them, take care of them.”  
“I don’t know,” Harry says. “I’m not sure if Louis likes me.”  
Zayn leans forward to pull Louis into an elegant dip. Louis laughs and waves towards Harry, his aura growing brighter by the millisecond.  
“What? Nonsense, boy! Of course he likes you! His eyes get brighter when he sees you.”  
The two end their improv dance, Louis bowing gracefully and Zayn just laughing. Louis comes bumbling toward Harry, drunk in happiness, and screams, “I don’t want this night to ever end!” And Harry realizes. He really is quite beautiful, even without all his starlit glory. Liam gives him a wink and waltzes up to Zayn, asking for a dance of his own.  
Harry smiles, and he spends the rest of the night bathing in the starlight, holding Louis in a tight hug and watching him shine.  
…  
Harry gives Liam one last hug, and he hopes with all his heart that the hug shows how grateful he is to him. Liam has docked onto land, allowing Louis and Harry to continue their journey on foot.  
“Thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?” Harry asks, and Liam waves it away.  
“Go. No need to repay me, it was my pleasure.”  
Harry smiles and gives Liam an acknowledging sort of nod, turning to catch up with Louis who is already 15 meters ahead of him. “You’re so slow, Curly!” he calls behind him.  
“Harry!” Liam exclaims, and Harry turns around to face him.  
“Remember what I said about Louis. He’s very special, and not just because he’s a star.”  
Harry grins, nods, and finally turns, departing into town and not sure anymore how he feels about Niall.  
***  
“Harry!” Louis calls from the kitchen. “How d’you make this shit?”  
The pair decided, upon reaching town at the start of dusk, to check into a small motel and wait til morning to visit Niall. Louis demanded that he be the one to make dinner, and even though Harry was an experienced baker, he let Louis make it anyway. Louis had wanted to be fancy (“how about some chicken? Maybe with some homemade mash? That always sounded good to me”) but after burning the water he was supposed to boil the potatoes in, Harry decided they should stick with something easier. Louis was now attempting to boil some noodles.  
Harry groans and stands up from the living room. He has benefitted greatly from Liam’s teachings; he now can hold a sword without falling over, and even better, he can actually fight with one. What used to be shrimpy, useless arms now have a bit of muscle on them. And Louis has gained some things from Liam too. He can play wicked piano, now, and the smile on his face is so much better than his old scowl.  
“You pour the noodles in the water, then you let it boil, and then you pour the flavor packets in! It’s easy.”  
Louis pouts. “Fine. If it’s easy, then you do it. I’m going to go take a bath.”  
He flicks his nose and prances toward the bathroom, and Harry rolls his eyes and smiles. Now that the rude, hardened layers of Louis have weathered away, Harry can see that he really is fun under all of it.  
So Harry prepares the pot of noodles, and Louis washes himself up, and everything is perfect.  
…  
Harry knocks on the bedroom door. “Come in!” Louis calls cheerfully. Harry steps inside and he can see that Louis is swaddled in a big, fluffy white robe.  
“This was complimentary from the motel. Isn’t it nice?” he says while staring out the window. He’s watching the people pass down below. Louis had never admitted it before, but people fascinate him.  
Harry nods, but he seems troubled. Thoughts are clouding his brain. And it may have something to with a certain fallen star.  
“Louis?” Harry asks quietly. “What do you think will happen to you? If I give you to Niall?”  
Louis shrugs. “I don’t know. I suppose I – did you just say ‘if’? ‘If’ I give you to Niall?”  
Harry blushes and turns, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Erm… I’m not sure if I should give you to him or not. I don’t know – you just, you’re too – nice? I guess? And Niall is kind of a twat… I’m not even sure what I saw in him in the first place. So. Yeah. I don’t know.”  
Louis looks taken aback; he crosses the room and puts his hand on Harry’s head. “Are you allright, Harry? Your temperature is fine.”  
Harry closes his eyes, savoring Louis’ touch on his skin. “I’m just not sure what I think anymore.”  
Louis smiles. “I will go to Niall if you want me to. I won’t even complain, or anything. Y’know. If you want. Or, I could stay? You uh – I could stay with you?”  
Harry’s eyes raise, meeting Louis’ and causing a collision of earthly and celestial colors. “You would like to stay with me?”  
Louis shrugs. “I could go with Niall. You know. I’m sure he wouldn’t be that bad – he’s a rich kid after all, ‘in he?”  
Harry scowls. “Oh, shut up.” He knows what he wants. Yes. Liam’s words come back to mind and he’s got this figured out. He does. He wants Louis.  
Louis’ eyes widen. “Excuse me?”  
“Shut up,” Harry says, and he leans forward and closes the gap between them.  
It’s incredibly soft, just like Harry imagined it would be. Louis isn’t responsive at first, but he jumps into life once Harry bites his lip gently. It’s just like Harry expected it would be; except better. Louis doesn’t even feel human (Harry’s never kissed anyone before but surely this isn’t what humans feel like), he feels exactly like the beautiful star he is. Louis’ fingers raise and tangle at the base of Harry’s neck, sending tingles down his spine and shock-waves through his system. Both of them are very, very new at this, but somehow they both know exactly what to do.  
Harry pushes Louis backwards, and Louis’ back knocks into the wall. Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ skin under his fingers, loves the way it makes his fingertips feel complete and whole. Like Louis was the part he was missing his whole life. Louis runs his tongue on Harry’s bottom lip, slowly slotting it in and darting around tentatively. Harry groans, accidentally, and it sends a biting hum through both of their mouths.  
“Jesus,” Louis mumbles, resting his arms on Harry’s shoulders. Harry grabs ahold of Louis’ thighs, hiking them upward and letting them wrap around his waist. There’s not enough; there’s not enough contact, not enough Louis and Harry.  
“Harry,” Louis gasps while breaking away from the breath-stealing kiss. “Let’s – let’s go on the bed, yeah?”  
Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He un-pins Louis from the wall and quite literally falls onto the bed, and the two are a tangle of limbs for a few brief seconds before they get themselves situated again. Louis climbs on top of Harry, hands traveling everywhere he can reach and feeling curiously for Harry’s warmth. Harry rests his hands on the small of Louis’ back, wanting so badly to rest them on his thighs but not wanting to go too far.  
“God Harry, just put your damn hands here,” Louis mutters, grabbing Harry’s hands and placing them on the curve of his arse. Louis stamps kisses on Harry’s neck, and the wet heat takes control of Harry’s senses immediately. Harry never, ever wants this to stop, never wants to not-feel Louis’s sturdy weight on him –  
“I love you,” Louis whispers while quietly slipping a hand in between the buttons of Harry’s shirt. Harry’s heart hammers to a loud ballad, his love playing out for Louis like a symphony.  
“I love you, too,” Harry whispers back, slipping Louis out of his bathrobe and gasping at how beautiful he is, every part of him, all of him.  
“I want to. Really bad,” Louis says, almost guiltily, plodding a kiss to Harry’s ear.  
“I’ve never done it before,” Harry admits, breath stammering a little at Louis’ kiss.  
“I’ve seen it, I can do it, I’ll do it, please let me do it,” Louis pleads, his hands thumbing at the fabric of Harry’s shirt. “It’ll be good, please, let me do it.”  
Harry finds himself a little breathless that this wonderful, beautiful, this star, wants to do this with him. Wants to take away one of the few precious things that can never be given back.  
“Allright, of course you can do it, Lou,” he says, arching his back up and mouthing at Louis’ neck, wanting to get one last taste of him. Louis cracks the widest grin Harry has even seen him smile.  
“Okay. Okay. We’ll take it slow, okay?” he asks, cupping Harry’s cheek in his small hands. Harry leans into his touch.  
“Yes. God, I love you.”  
The rest of the night is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, silent commitments made between the two. Harry loves Louis. Louis the star. God, he loves how that sounds.  
And Niall? Who is Niall? The boy? Why would you have a boy, when you could have your own star?  
***  
Harry grips Louis’ hand tighter as the heavy mass of gold is placed on his head, weighing down his curls. Louis smiles beside him, a crown of his own on his head.  
Of course, when Harry had finally met with his mother, she had been the long-lost Princess of the Kingdom of Wall! She had been on Death’s Door, unfortunately, so she handed Harry the world (and trust him when he says he handled it carefully.)  
So now, Harry and his boy were being crowned, and you can imagine the jealousy on Niall’s face.  
“I love you,” Louis whispered as the onlookers (Liam and Zayn were in the crowd of course; they were the first people Harry told about being of royal blood, now) cheered on their two new Kings. Harry simply smiled back and placed a wet kiss on his cheek.  
***  
Harry grips Louis’ hand tighter as their surrogate lets out one last huffing breath, and the cries of a newborn soon fills the room.  
“Oh my god, Louis! He looks just like you!” Harry cried while holding the grumpy baby, utterly amazed at how tiny the boy was. Louis laughs tighter and smiles, and the two fawn over their new baby for the rest of the exhausting night.  
***  
Harry grips Louis’ hand tighter as they watch their son’s Coronation, proud swelling his chest with each passing second. Both Harry and Louis are getting older, weaker, and cannot handle the stress of ruling a country.  
Louis leans in and whispers in Harry’s ear, “he’s just as handsome as you were, darling.”  
Harry leans into Louis’ warm breath, loving the way it tickles across his skin and still sends his heartbeat jumping.  
“He’ll never be as handsome as you are, I regret.”  
***  
Harry grips Louis’ hand tighter as he feels the strong hold of Death lapping at his skin. He weakly protests as shivers rack over his body, shedding the life from him and gathering it in the cracks of the dusty room.  
Louis, himself, is dying, and each is the other’s anchor, the thing to hold onto while they pass to the other side.  
“Harry,” Louis weakly whispers, spending his last breaths. “I love you.”  
“I love you too, Lou,” Harry replies, and the two shut their eyes, waiting peacefully for Death to welcome them.  
***  
Zayn leans out of the window, staring up into the sky and watching, amazed, as two new stars appear in the black sky.  
“Liam! Quick! Come look at this!”  
Liam quickly bounds up, excitement taking over the achiness in his joints. “Two new stars?”  
“Harry and Louis must have passed, look. The Evening Star is back, and there’s another star right next to him,” Zayn says quietly, admiring the beauty of the coupled stars. Liam grins with a twinkle in his eye.  
“When they said together forever, they meant together forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you lovely people have actually seen the movie Stardust (which, if you haven’t, I strongly encourage you do), the reason I cut all the witchy-princey-actiony stuff from the story was because it wasn’t that important to the Harry/Louis relationship. And, action has never really been my forte, so, it probably would’ve sucked. It would’ve been more sucky that it already is, anyway.
> 
> *oh, and by the way, quick fun fact: The character of Liam was totally inspired by Leroy from Best Song Ever. Couldn’t you totally see Liam as a gay captain? And then Zayn as his boy? Oh God. :D*


End file.
